Vices
by xbulletproofidea
Summary: Reno, through Rude's eyes. Friendship, history, the company and Reno's twisted secrets, from beginning to end. Eventual yaoi but no fluff. Follows ff7, disregards Crisis Core/Advent Children ect because they're stupid.


**Like the summary says, this is a multi-chapter fic centering on Reno and Rude. It's written in the second person, but it's not meant to be interactive; the 'you' is Rude. This story starts when they meet and basically goes on from there, jumping between present day and past events. Special thanks to Primusgal for always trying to kick my lazy ass into gear. **

**Chapter One**

The first time you saw Reno, he wasn't Reno at all.

The Wutian sun beat down on your face and you blink despite the dark shades blocking most of it from your eyes; beads of sweat dripping down your neck, across your bare arms and crimson second-class uniform.

You stood with some of the other Soldiers, lazy, bored in the heat, watching the newest recruits stumble from the barracks on their first morning of their sentence. None of them struck you as anything special; none of them were any different than the Soldiers you'd been stuck here with for the past five months.

Some of them eyed you from a distance, waiting for some kind of signal, or a cue they could play off of. You didn't give them anything- not a smile, not a frown- because there was a lot of waiting and wondering here in this Wutain battlefield and you thought they might as well get used to it.

But one of them did catch your eye as your gaze wandered across the green earth and hazy blue sky. He was walking behind the others, rubbing his eyes sleepily and biting his lip, like he'd just woken up here with no recollection of how or why he'd come. He had bright red hair- long and unruly and messy- and you figured that's why he'd caught your eye.

He called something to the other new recruits that you couldn't hear, but it made them turn back, and you could hear their short laugher. It was an unfamiliar sound against the desolate wind and it alerted some of the other Soldiers. They snapped their heads in his direction like the laugher was a magnet- an unmissable sign of human life that had been vacant here for so long.

You tried to ignore it. There was no place for friends in war and you'd been telling yourself that since the day you became a Soldier. Making friends meant loosing friends and that wasn't something you were up for. You hated the way the other Soldiers would pal around with each other and were grateful when they stopped trying to include you.

The redhead stretched, looking at the sky, back arched sharply and let out a long sigh as he righted himself. He looked out of place. He looked too young. He looked tired. He looked at you, past you and behind you, and somehow right through you.

And he walked over, slowly, easily, hands in his pockets, a slight tilt to his head. He watched you the entire time and you pretended to ignore him, like you were still watching the others, like you were oblivious to him.

His uniform was baggy; as if someone gave it to him with the hopes he might fill it out soon. He was shorter than you by almost a foot, like he hadn't finished growing yet, and you swore he couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen.

"Hey man," the skinny cadet extended his hand with a smile. "I'm Conner." He squinted in the sun, his lightly freckled cheeks in a friendly smile, red hair falling against his forehead.

"Hi," was all you replied; the meaning behind your short, unkind response perfectly clear.

And you'd stood there, refusing to acknowledge him further, ignoring him, and all the while he'd stayed, waiting for a response, a kind of unsure grin spreading across his lips.

"So I'm new here and I was just wondering, like-"

But you hadn't even met his eyes again; just turned your back, and walked away while he snorted with a kind of disbelieving laughter.

He'd called a string of insults at your back, but when you'd turned back to lay him out, he'd laughed and waved; those green eyes flashing at you. You'd stood still, blinking twice at the scrawny kid, and he just smiled and flipped you off with one skinny finger when you didn't move, and he turned, light-footed, away.

As you moved through the base that night, too tired to think of anything except putting one foot in front of the other, you try to keep the skinny redhead off your mind. You only wanted to crumple into your bed, sweating in the hot Wutian night air, mind spinning until you can will yourself to sleep with stubborn self-control.

But as you walk past small clusters of Soldiers playing cards and trying to pretend they're anywhere but here on this god-forsaken island, fighting the president's pointless war, that's the only thing you can't seem to do. You wonder what they tell him; what they tell each other.

You can just imagine their words; asking each other why the hell you never talk, why you refuse to pal around with all of them, why you keep to yourself, or Conner with that easy smile, asking what the hell is wrong with you. You almost wonder if he's talking to you out of some kind of bet- who can get the quiet guy to open up first- and if his friendliness is just an act.

And you know they think they've got you all figured out. They couldn't be more wrong.

But it never really bothered you before. You were here for a reason, and that duty was something you relished. Joining the Shinra army four years ago hadn't been a thing of pride or desire- it was necessity. Things weren't terrible at home, probably better than most, but you drove yourself out, knowing you needed a paycheck to send back to keep your family going.

When you'd left years ago for Midgar looking for work, you'd only wanted to slip out the back door, like a shadow seeping away, forgotten by your family. You felt no real pride in your decision, just necessity, and it was not a life choice you relished. So as you packed your bags and your mom said one-sided tearful goodbyes, your father stood quietly and watched you with those disapproving eyes, you only wished you could disappear, unnoticed.

But as you were meticulously cleaning your rife the next afternoon and that underfed boy plopped down on the dirt next to you, with the same cocky grin plastered over his face, as if you'd never insulted him; bright and cheerful, ready to be snubbed again, it surprised you almost enough to be friendly back.

"Man, can you believe this fucking _heat_?" he'd muttered, shaking his head, beads of sweat dripping down his face across a single, faint scar on his cheekbone.

You slid your eyes sideways, palm still moving deftly in small circles across your rifle.

"I've never been this fucking hot in my entire goddamn life," the redhead continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that you hadn't answered his first question.

"And, I mean, I used to think summers in the slums were bad..." he trailed off, as his green eyes blinked twice and he grinned suddenly. "Whatever though, right man?" He lightly punched your shoulder and you jerked, glancing at him quickly, but he was looking off in the distance and he didn't notice the way your eyes lingered for that extra moment before flicking back to your work.

"The things that happened back then...they don't matter, yeah?"

You ignore him, ignore that kind of logic, ignore those sparkling eyes and flashing grin. Realizing that you've just finished polishing your gun for the third time this afternoon, you pause, wishing he'd just leave, and when he grins at you expectantly, you sigh, and start from the top again.

"...Don't you uh...think that's clean enough, man?" The redhead lightly ran one finger along the rifle, showing it to you with a smile.

You took a deep breath and collected your belongings, never meeting his eyes, never saying a word, and leave him, still perched there, red hair sloppy with sweat and dirt, rifle balanced across one shoulder, as he shrugs at you with a smile, like nothing you could do would possibly hurt him.

********

"When do you think it's gonna fall," Reno leaned his elbows against the windowsill, cigarette burning slowly in his left hand.

You shrug, wishing he wouldn't draw attention to what was looming outside the window. You're doing your best to ignore him right now because the sun is setting and all you want is to get out of this office as soon as possible, but that's never going to happen unless you finish this report.

The terrorists- fucking Avalanche- have been causing more problems than usual.

You stare at the words, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the report left on your desk. Your eyes wander to the sun setting quickly on Midgar, at Reno still staring at Meteor like he'll will it to stay up there…or crash down faster.

"God dammit Reno," you mutter finally, glancing up from the screen. "Would you get away from that fucking window?"

He glances back at you, a smirk pulling his lips apart. "What," he laughs shortly, joylessly. "You afraid its gonna see you?"

You ignore him as he turns back to the window and takes another long drag on his cigarette, like he's won some kind of battle against you. You take a slow breath, willing your irritation with Reno to dissipate and eventually you keep reading, all emotion and thought buried.

_The Huge Materia was not acquired from either Fort Condor or North Coral. It was intercepted by the rebel faction Avalanche in both cases and-_

"_I gotta run," Reno finally says, sauntering over and mashing his cigarette against the ashtray, green eyes watching you, daring you to ask him to stay. _

"_Whatever," you mumble, eyes still fixed on the screen. This would be so much easier to finish once he gets out. _

_He hops up on the desk, without a shred of the bounciness he used to exude, shoes hitting the wood with two dull thuds; eyes still fixed on yours, challenging you._

"_Got some business with the president," Reno continues in his offhand way, taunting you by dropping Rufus' name, urging you, provoking you; begging you to care._

_You don't take the bait. "Okay Reno," it's flat and monotone. _

"_Come to the bar with me tonight," he smirks, face twisting, changing the subject, and you tear your eyes away. _

"_Why," you don't even make it a question, voice sounding dull in your ears, but he yanks your chin towards his face, the same smirk plastered on it, his eyes radiating with Mako and the thought of alcohol._

"_So when I get fucked up out of my mind, you can carry my ass home," he giggles, voice sounding metallic and hallow and it grates against your nerves. _

"_Sure," you answer finally, in that noncommittal tone that's become so routine towards your partner._

_He's satisfied though, and hops off the desk, landing lightly and slams the door cheerfully behind him._

_You're alone in the chilly office, the air conditioning blaring, beige curtains drifting back and forth. You shut your eyes in the near-silence, both hands on your bald head, and lean back in your chair. _

_It's only in your quiet solitude when you know he's gone that you allow the thought that's been billowing around your head to finally surface._

_God damn it, do you hate Reno. _

_But it wasn't always like this._

_****_


End file.
